Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine, 
And health and youth possess'd me; 
My goblets blush'd from every vine, 
And lovely forms carress'd me; 
I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes, 
And felt my soul grow tender; 
All earth can give, or mortal prize, 
Was mine of regal splendour. 

I strive to number o'er what days 
Remembrance can discover, 
Which all that life or earth displays 
Would lure me to live over. 
There rose no day, there roll'd no hour 
Of pleasure unembitter'd: 
And not a trapping deck'd my power 
That gall'd not while it glitter'd. 

The serpent of the field, by art 
And spells, is won from harming; 
But that which coils around the heart, 
Oh! who hath power of charming? 
It will not list to wisdom's lore, 
Nor music's voice can lure it; 
But there it stings for evermore 
The soul that must endure it.